The Tea and Sympathy Chronicles
by persephonemoonbathesagain
Summary: Classic comfort conversations over grief at the absence of everyone's favorite werewolf...Except Tonks talks not just to Molly but to...some very special oddball friends (FLEUR! *gasp*). Special guest appearances. If you like they will continue...about 5 chapters? Review, dear reader. 3
1. Chapter 1

Another impossibly late Saturday night at 12 Grimmauld Place. Tonks didn't want to go back to her flat to face the loneliness, the torment of what she had once thought were pleasantly lingering memories of happy conversation — and what she mistakenly believed were the beginnings of something more. She dawdled long after dinner, then spent an inordinately long time freshening up to volunteer to clean the dishes, which she hated. With all that time already lapsed and wasted, she could find excuse to stay late enough to be invited to spend the night.

But she needn't have gone through all that. Molly Weasley saw right through her, as usual, anticipating her need for company, even if the company were all sound asleep upstairs in bed. Even if the company included a bunch of teenagers with far less and yet far more on their minds than a grown-up love affair gone horribly wrong, meaning — a love affair that had not even properly begun. Furiously scrubbing a certain tea mug, a favorite of hers because it was a favorite of *his*, Tonks felt the beloved object nearly slip through her soapy hands. 'Oi!' she whisper-shouted to herself, as an unseen Molly came up behind her and put a resolute but gentle hand on Tonks's now trembling shoulder.

'Dear, it's just so late and you've been working so hard. I thought you had already settled in for the night. Everyone else went to bed hours ago. Now' — Molly's tone turned crisp and managerial, steering Tonks by the shoulders away from the kitchen and towards the first floor guest room — 'I've made up your room the way you like it. Charmed everything bright pink too. Please, rest your poor heart, and go to sleep dear.'

Tonks had opened and shut her mouth several times during this maternal speech but she realized that her protest would just be perfunctory and even dishonest. She wanted nothing more than to stay the night in that charmed pink bedroom with the Weasley brood and their friends (including the zany Luna Lovegood this time around), cheering the gloomy Ancient House of Black even in their sleep. Now that was magical. She hated it otherwise these days, getting up in the morning to complete silence, her usual high spirits flown far away…wherever her favorite, um, *friend* (was that the right word?) whose favorite mug she nearly broke had gone…It was much better to get up to a bustling busy house of smiling redheads. And at least one saucer-eyed blond (in addition to Luna, whose father had gone briefly abroad for research into a Quibbler piece on the attempted abuse of thestrals by the Death Eaters, the flaxen haired Fleur was unfortunately also spending some time at Headquarters). In any case, it all gave Tonks a sense of…belonging and family, so needed in these sorrowful times, even if she was one person contributing a lot to the immediate fund of sorrow.

Molly already had her seated on the edge of the fluffy pink canopy bed, and the Weasley matriarch was actually kneeling, starting to yank off an impassive Tonks's worked-in olive green Doc Martens. The most colorful thing about her these days, those boots were, Tonks thought miserably.

Finally realizing what was happening, Tonks sighed in weak protest. She did indeed feel the need to be cradled like a child these days, especially after her almost daily 18 hour shifts stalking the dark arts in Hogsmeade, but having her boots yanked off by Molly was taking things a little too far. She was a grown woman and couldn't fall to pieces, even if it was only 'after hours' that she allowed herself to deteriorate. Besides, Molly had enough to handle and enough exhaustion of her own to sleep away. Even more than Tonks had.

Molly. Merlin was she strong. 'Unlike me,' Tonks gloomily whispered. She hated how everyone now knew her weakness, or heard rumor of its source, how it showed everywhere and in everything she did — off duty at least — how she had to tolerate approximately twice the number of snide remarks from Snape over it, how she felt all the duller around the radiant Fleur who was prancing around these days with an ebullient yet elegant grace that made not only her boyfriend Bill's but all the men's faces light up (with notable exceptions, of course: Mad Eye, who, if he ever 'lit up,' vigilantly concealed his glow, and, well, Snape. Obviously.). In contrast, Tonks knew people were whispering about how down and awful she looked, and how her seemingly interminable depression might affect her job at the Ministry, how it might affect her work for the Order. Tonks had vowed not to let her depression get her that lost, but…Merlin, she feared she had no choice. Though she was constantly abiding by CONSTANT VIGILANCE (Moody was keeping his penetrating magical eye trained on her a lot more than usual these days, and it was really unsettling; she supposed that was her friend and mentor's best version of avuncular concern), Tonks knew it could only be a matter of time before she muttered the wrong counter-curse or failed to set all the shielding charms properly and, well…so much for CONSTANT VIGILANCE it would be, she often remarked to herself, with bitterness. Maybe she should just bow out now and go huddle in a corner. And die a lonely old maid who couldn't help anyone, not even herself. In whichever order those activities would cause the least inconvenience to others. Everyone but her seemed to know how to put duty over emotions, and she felt incompetent, out of control, and selfish.

'Whaaaa?' Tonks murmured. Molly had been whispering to her. She hadn't been paying attention. The older woman's eyes darkened in concern. 'Tonks,' she began slowly, 'Arthur and I want you to take a week off from work.' 'WHAT?!' Tonks exclaimed, now fully alert, painfully awake. And very much embarrassed, and alarmed. Had her pathetic heartbreak at last ruined her career and, far worse, her ability to contribute to the Order? 'But Molly! Please. Please just give me a little time to pull myself together. The Order's work…we're working for…for a better world. For all of us. This is more important than my own sad little sob story. Who cares about me?' She started laughing and crying at once, sounding, she realized, slightly unhinged. 'I don't care about me at all! I want to be the job. I want to do the right thing!' She was indeed pulling herself together. At least her outer self. Rallying her expression. Good.

She put on her best professional Auror face, giving Molly a pointed look. 'I am ready to do what is required of me, Molly, and am fully capable of it. Rest assured. You've just been catching me at a bad time.' Tonks coughed. Merlin, her head sure hurt and there was pain behind, actually behind, her eyes. 'Tonks, dear…' Molly took the younger woman's hand into her own and looked into her bleary eyes. Tonks looked away. 'I have no doubt of your willingness to help. I have no doubt you are capable. But you are still young. And this is a lot for anyone, especially a young person. Heartbreak is hard. It's harder when you're young. It's hardest during a war.' Tonks began to speak but Mrs. Weasley shushed her. 'Now, Tonks, listen here. We have decided, unanimously. Severus too.' Tonks groaned and slammed her back onto the bed so that she was lying completely flat her knees dangling off, one of her Doc Martens still half on, the laces in sad disarray, some tight, others loose. 'We all care, Tonks. We all understand. We've each pitched in an hour a day extra to give you this time off, and Mad Eye already arranged things with the Ministry. It will do you good and it will also help you help us better. It's only natural to take this rest.' Tonks started to sit up again, but Molly held up her hand. 'Now young lady do not argue! I said: we took an official vote — ' 'Merlin, Molly!' ' — ahem. We've taken an official vote and we have all decided that, in general, when one of us — ANY one of us — truly needs a break for whatever reason, the others will do their best to arrange for them to have it. This is not only about you, Tonks. It's about how we can continue functioning as a resistance group going strong, long term. Mad Eye himself agreed this resolution is in keeping with the principle of, erm, 'constant vigilance.'' Tonks peaked up through her limp mousy hair at Molly and saw a small grin. She couldn't help but grin a little too. She felt quite a bit better already, as the idea of a week long break, as uncomfortable and antsy as that still made her, sunk in.

'And during this week,' Molly continued, 'I would really like you to get your feelings and thoughts off your chest. I'm happy to listen to you talk and cry about —' But Tonks stopped her because she couldn't bear to hear his name. 'NO MOLLY. Sorry. No, please, Molly. I…I don't want to talk it out. It's embarrassing enough that I'm so beat up over some snotty git and —' 'You know he's not a snotty git, Tonks,' Molly said quietly. 'And you also know that's part of the problem.' At that the young woman burst into tears. 'Oh Molly…I love him so much…I really do…I am so torn up and I worry for his life and I cry and I miss him and I'm selfish and want him all for me, to come back here for me and give up the fight, and then I want to die for him and do this ugly work for him, all at the same time…' Tonks gave herself fully over to the melodrama she felt. Sometimes it was easier to feel melodramatically than to gather her emotions and put them to good use. For that, too, Tonks hated herself these days. But at least she wasn't cry-laughing anymore.

'Shhh…' Molly put her one arm around the sobbing witch's shoulder and with her other, in her free hand, she took Tonks's. 'Listen, Tonks, let's make a date to talk all about it tomorrow night. But in the meantime, I wanted to ask you something.' Through swollen eyes, Tonks glanced up. 'Yes?' she said slightly defeated, quietly. 'Well, Tonks…where are your friends? I mean your girlfriends? They can be so important at a time like this. Why don't you go out dancing or whatever you young people do, to blow off some steam? Then go out for a chat…? Doesn't that sound nice? You're too cooped up in here. We're only teenagers and middle agers. It'd do wonders to touch base with your girlfriends, I'd bet.' 'Molly…' Tonks chuckled softly, but shook her head. 'I've never exactly had luck with…ya know…hitting it off with other…girls…I mean…I'm more of a bloke's bloke kind of girl. I stomp around in big boots and fight off bad guys. My hobbies are not exactly compatible with maintaining the perfect blowout, and as for girl talk, well —' But Tonks and Molly did not get to finish their conversation about balancing the hazards of hair spray and hexing. For the door suddenly swung open, and the hallway light somehow at once silhouetted and paled in comparison to the vision now poised in the doorway, a woman with practiced ballerina posture swinging several shopping bags gloriously adorned in gold and purple ribbon, the bright beautiful vision of Fleur Delacour, flawless blond blowout encircling her perfect, haughtily smiling features.


	2. Chapter 2

''Allo! Bonjour!' Fleur called into the room, as if it were bright and airy midday at the beach (the French Riviera?), not at all in the middle of night in the middle of a dank old house in the middle of a bloody war, as both Molly and Tonks silently slapped their foreheads. 'Vat is all zees commotion? I just arrived from zat charming Muggle restaurant with Bill, yes, it vas truly, ah, fasheenable, how unexpected zat vas pour moi. I come in ready to sleep, and I hear all zis noise! Vell, certainly it is time for zee beauty sleep, non?'' Fleur placed her bags gently on the floor, and softly spoke 'Lumos.' 'Ah, Tonks. I thought it vas you. Who else does all zees awful crying making her face so, ah, how do you say? Runny and —' Fleur indicated her meaning by pulling a face, contorting her features, and gesturing to her eyes and mouth, which somehow, instead of making her look 'heedeeous!' as Tonks had silently prayed — made her prettiness all the more charming. She heard Molly swallow, and watched as her cheeks reddened in indignation on Tonks's behalf.

Ignoring Fleur, Molly got up. 'As I was saying, dear Tonks' — at this she glared at Fleur, who was obliviously rustling through her shopping bags — 'you are welcome to rest here as long as you need. Please do get some sleep. We will talk in the morning, I promise.' She kissed Tonks on the forehead, and began to exit, making a show of stepping around Fleur's dainty packages. Over Fleur's shoulder Molly clucked and rolled her eyes. Tonks stifled a laugh, but as Molly walked out, gloom set in once again. She slumped backwards onto the bed. 'Oi.' She closed her eyes, wishing Fleur would just go away, figuring she would now that Tonks was no longer wailing. But she didn't. In fact, she pranced over to the side of the bed and sat down, posture still perfectly perfect, right next to Tonks.

'Pardon' she said with that damned delicate little accent. Tonks could never be that sweet and feminine. But who on earth would want to be, anyway? Merlin, it was like that time at her eighth birthday party. Sally Markins cast one too many sweetening charms on the already sugar drenched frosting on the towering birthday cake so that all the kids were puking their guts up the second they took a single bite…the rest of that celebration took place at St. Mungo's…Yeah, it was like Fleur was the sugar plum princess figurine on top of that colossus of a confection gone horribly wrong. No, worse. She was a pure sugar bomb — a sugar bomb about to detonate with sweetness overkill at any moment, all the men jockeying for the privilege to be blown to smithereens with dainty feminine flirtations and doily lace thonged underwear. Yuck. At least one man she knew, at least HE was immune to Fleur's charms…He wasn't that superficial. He thought with his…higher mind. But, then again, apparently he was also immune to Tonks's own charms…if she had any to begin with, that is…

Tonks reached for the headphones Molly had considerately placed by the side of her bed. Molly had not always, to say the least, appreciated Tonks's proclivity for screeching punk rock or boisterous riot grrrl blasts — both Muggle and Magic (female rage kind of sounded the same whether or not you owned a wand, so to speak) — but by now she respected the younger woman's, er, edgier tastes. Pretending she didn't hear Fleur's dainty little 'pardon!', she jammed on her headphones and turned up the volume on Bikini Kill's Double Dare Ya.

But Fleur was undeterred. More than that, actually, for her perfectly manicured hands ripped the headphone cord from Tonks's boombox. 'Hey! I was listening to that!' Fleur looked triumphant, which just made Tonks angrier. 'Vell, at leest you 'ave some, how do you say, get up and go, some, ah, verve now, not zis sad mopey face.' Tonks just stared. What was happening? She was used to Fleur's breezy and insulting commentary about her appearance, but this last remark from the sugar plumb princess man bomb made Tonks stop and think. She'd always assumed Fleur's insults were made totally in passing, as the closest thing to homage the divine Fleur would ever pay to a lesser being such as Tonks herself, just a kind of queenly condescension of acknowledgment, a darkening insult that made the unattainable star burn all the more brightly. At least in the eyes of the menfolk. The sniveling arses. But now it actually seemed as if Fleur…noticed Tonks as a specific person…and was…taking interest in something about her…No, it couldn't be true. Tonks didn't know what to say, so she sat up, headphones awkwardly held up midway between her ears and shoulders.

Fleur smiled with that damned relentless haute couture trademark smile. Except now that Tonks was looking more closely, she saw something…soft in Fleur's expression. Was Fleur actually taking pity on her? Well, Merlin's beard (and she was still praying that would appear on Fleur's sweet little…chin). If so, Tonks didn't need Fleur's pity. She could shove all of that pity princess shite up her dainty little —

Fleur cut off Tonks's inner diatribe. 'So. Vhen are you and your, how is it, your, ah, love boy — vell, he iz hardly a boy, non? — vhen are you finally going to make ze love between you again? Is that why you are so sans consolation, because you cannot have enough love from the man you love?' Tonks couldn't believe what she was hearing. That floozy little veela wannabe. So much for sympathy from Fleur. The lack of sleep was really making her tired.

'Phle —' (she almost addressed Fleur by her true name. Which was Phlegm.) 'Fleur. What on earth are you talking about?'

'Ah, Tonks. Do you not theenk that ze whole world does not know about your love for this man, your love boy, yes? Remus? Your lover? It eez zo clear you are suffering from a love ache.' Meanwhile, Fleur had procured a small package from one of her many shopping bags, but Tonks didn't notice.

As Fleur spoke, Tonks quickly moved from rage to sadness. Hearing Remus's name did that to her. She was on the verge of tears and almost didn't care anymore that Fleur was here to witness her at her most vulnerable. To her own surprise, Tonks replied to Fleur with quietness:

'Oh. Fleur, um…you misunderstood. Remus and I, I mean, I, er…'

'Yes?!' Fleur's eyes were bugging, waiting for Tonks to finish. How did she manage to look so perfect even with the stupidest expressions slapped on her face?

'We never, Remus and I never…'

Fleur was…She was actually about to laugh. But, again, to Tonks's surprise this didn't make her angry, as it usually would have done. It just made her feel more like a child. Oddly more inclined to share. She really didn't have any other young women to talk to. She never understood that concept. She never had much to say by way of boys and hair and nails and whatever girly girls spoke of. But someone being in the super femme Fleur's proximity tonight was comforting. Not that she was letting her 'constant vigilance' guard down. Oh no not for a second, not her.

'Fleur, Remus and I never —' she took a sharp inhale and crossed her eyes — ' 'made ze love,' ok?' We were not even dating.' Tonks trailed off.

'Well, zhen. It should be easy to move past him, vhat is ze problem?'

'Nothing.'

'Obviously zomething.'

'No.'

'Tonks you are behaving like a leetle girl. No wonder Remus will not make ze love anymore to you.'

Finally, Tonks exploded. 'LISTEN! DOLL FACE! I HAVE NEVER HAD SEX WITH REMUS. I WISH I DID I WISH AND I WAS STILL HAVING THE SEX I NEVER HAD WITH HIM IN THE FIRST PLACE, BUT HE HATES ME. OK?! HE HATES ME!'

Fleur just sat there quietly as Tonks broke into convulsing sobs. 'Tonks, you are hysterical! Calm down. It does no good for your complexion.'

'FLEUR! WHO CARES ABOUT MY BLOODY SKIN AT A TIME LIKE THIS!'

With that Fleur, still looking unperturbed oddly enough, got up. But before she took her shopping bags and exited, she went up to Tonks and placed a light little package in her hand. 'I got zis for you in Diagon Alley. I thought it might cheer you up. Open when you are ready.' With that she swirled out of the room, her pale blue diaphanous robes gracefully trailing behind her, leaving Tonks staring at the gift in her hand.

Like that, with Fleur's tiny gift in her hand, Tonks had finally drifted off into a fitful sleep…

When she woke up it was still very very early. Too early to get out of bed. Tonks felt overwhelmingly depressed, dejected, lonely. She got up to use the loo, and as she did felt as if every muscle in her body was resisting. She felt bloated and exhausted. Stumbling out of bed Tonks realized there was something warm and wet and sticky trickling down her legs. 'Bloody hell! I go and wet myself now?!' She instinctively put her hand to her skin and looked at her fingers. They were covered with blood. Great. Her period. She had messed up the beautiful bed Molly had charmed pink for her with her literally bloody mess.

One hot shower and a menstrual cup insert later (Tonks could not be bothered with actually having to replace her tampons each month plus, ya know, even witches have to care about the environment) Tonks looked…awful. Her eyes were tired and her face drawn, her skin pallid. She looked completely joyless and sick. She sank back onto the bed after having done her best to charm out the stain, praying Molly wouldn't notice the rest (knowing that no one would answer those prayers). 'Ouch!' Tonks's head came down on a sharp corner. It was the corner of the little box Fleur had given her last night. Looking dejectedly into the mirror, Tonks sighed, raking her fingers through her limp mousy hair. 'Things can't get worse. Let's see what insult in the form of a gift the universe throws at me this time…from a half-arsed veela no less…' She unwrapped the box, which was elegantly adorned in a beautiful satin bow. 'Merlin, come on…we didn't even enter the honeymoon phase yet, Phlegm…' Finally all the wrappings were discarded, and the innermost box opened. Tonks gasped.

Inside was a beautiful lucite heart necklace, bright, dazzling, positively glittering PINK. It made Tonks's heart leap. Oh how she loved pink in all its shades and hues, and this pink made her think of better times, dancing the night away, laughing at Auror training, playing pranks on Mad-Eye with the other trainees late into the night. It was the color her hair and mismatched clothes had been. It was the color of Tonks's own brand of joy. Tonks actually choked up.

She faced the mirror again and slipped the necklace on. She gasped again. The necklace was charmed! For no sooner had she fastened its clasp, then her hair grew past her shoulders, quick and sure, thickening and morphing into the most dazzling rainbow unicorn pink she'd ever seen. There was even TINSEL in her hair, fuschia tinsel! She started crying with joy this time. Tonks recognized herself in the mirror, and she began to forget her problems. It might be any old day from before all of this war, this heartbreak. She might just then be going out to grab a bite to eat at the local pub and make mischief the whole night long, carefree…

Tonks ran out of the room and without thinking practically knocked Molly Weasley over in the kitchen. 'Fleur, Molly! Where's Fleur?!' 'Are you alright, Tonks, sweetheart?' Molly looked baffled and concerned and also a little sleep addled — she was just starting to organize for breakfast (at 5 am). Tonks collected herself, straightening up, as Molly only then seemed to notice her changed appearance. The older witch smiled, big and happy. 'Why Tonks! Just a good night sleep did this for you, what do you think a week will do?! I am so happy!" Tonks slowed her breath. 'Well, Molly…I guess you now are just catching me at a bad moment…I mean it's a good moment, but —' Molly started to look concerned again. 'It's just…look! Fleur gave me this beautiful necklace that I only put on this morning, and instantly my hair turned pink! It's just a charm but…it made me think…well…I just have to find her! Is she still here?!' Molly looked taken aback, not sure whether to be pleased or horrified. 'Oh Tonks, well, that's. That's. That's something. Are you sure Phl— I mean Fleur —' 'Quite sure, Molly. And I haven't broken into hives yet. I just. I have to thank her. I just looked at my reflection and it wasn't about my appearance. It's not about whether I look pretty. I never much cared about that. It's just that I remember the things I used to do, all the things I used to love, seeing myself how I looked back when I…when I…when I was…happy…' 'Tonks, dear, that is lovely!' It still looked as if Molly had to sit down and do about a weeks' worth of baking in order to process this information about her future daughter-in-law. 'I suppose, I guess —' Molly gathered herself up 'if Fleur did this for you in good faith, well, she deserves all our thanks.' 'I know! I'm gonna go wake her up! Bill better get his knickers on!' Molly cringed. Tonks didn't notice.

With that, and just as the outside door to 12 Grimmauld was opening, Tonks sped up the stairs, a vibrant tornado of pinkest pink, sparkling and beautiful from inside out like her own glitter bomb of, well — pink…stuff. Whatever. She was on a mission. She had to discover who this Fleur person actually was and then they had to go out and celebrate her week off.

Up the stairs Tonks practically flew, as Molly turned to the careworn man staring up the staircase, just coming in from the cold, the icy wind still blasting behind him. Molly glanced over at him with a complex cocktail of emotion in her ever watchful eyes: concern, compassion, but also slight exasperation. 'Remus, dear, come now! Let's close that door, it's awfully cold.'


	3. Chapter 3, Wolf and Bat

But before Molly could get the door fully shut let alone pull Remus out of his daze, long pale fingers attached to a slender, elegant hand curled around the door, halting its progress towards the hinge. Molly and Remus turned fully as the heavily cloaked figure made his way into the hallway, glowering, but ever so slightly. Remus was the first to recover his manners. Though he had to clear his throat before actually expressing those manners.

'Severus. How are you? May I take your coat?' Snape's eyes narrowed — just a little — as he glanced over at Remus, passing him with the barest turn of his head and without slowing down his fluid stride down the hall. He was by now treading swiftly towards the kitchen, trailing in his wake Remus, followed by a somewhat unnerved Molly. 'Lupin,' he enunciated, exaggerating each consonant just a tad more than would seem necessary to the casual ear. He nodded shortly, stopping at the sink. Molly took that as her cue to move in, relieved to be in her own territory again, happily preparing to offer Snape and Remus a cup of tea. 'Always the model housewife, I see.' At that, Molly began to blush and issue her usual modest protests while Remus tried to signal to her that — 'I was referring to the resident werewolf.' Remus smiled politely (he did see that one coming), building off of Snape's statement without quite acknowledging it: 'Molly, the entire Order appreciates everything you do for us. I have even noticed,' he added, with a gleam of mischief in his eyes, 'that Severus has taken a special liking for your treacle tart.' At that Molly puffed up again, and Snape shot the werewolf in question a subtle and yet most threatening glare. Without picking up on the tension, Molly doted: 'Well, Severus, I was just preparing some treacle tart for dessert today. I do hope you'll take some home with you. I'll make extra in fact.'

Snape surprised them both as his lips curved upwards in a small and brief yet definite smile. 'That would be most satisfactory. Thank you, Molly.' The red haired witch blushed further, and Remus thought she looked rather pretty like that, happy to be helpful and in a home, surrounded by people she loved and those she wanted to love and care for…Merlin knew he wasn't the domestic type for reasons obvious and…not so obvious…but that image of Molly so happy by the kitchen stirred emotions in him he thought had been long ago buried. The situation seemingly under control, Remus involuntarily turned his attention to the pink tornado of beautiful happy he miraculously saw — or hallucinated? — a moment ago, zooming up the staircase. Only happy women lived in the quarters of Molly Weasley…Well, he was himself happy…for Nymphadora. She'd finally found a lover, he was sure, someone a woman her age could —

'Lupin!' Snape sounded severe, like he'd been trying to get his attention for a while. 'Oh, I am sorry Severus. I wasn't paying attention.' 'A penchant for the obvious is not something I recall listed on your sad resume, Lupin. Your employment situation might improve, if you list your most impressive skills first…' Molly turned around abruptly, spatula in hand. 'Severus!' (She shocked herself at that moment). 'Do not speak to Remus that way! Not in this house!' 'I would think that Severus was merely trying to observe what traditionally passed as decorum in this place. And indeed, I have always admired the professor's veneration for the best in tradition.' He arched an eyebrow at Severus, then turned to Molly as she handed Remus and then, indignantly, Snape, a cup of tea. 'No harm done, Molly,' he added. 'Well!' Molly turned back to her cooking, but Remus could tell her ears were turning positively extendable.

For several moments no one spoke and the only sounds came from Molly's futzing around in the kitchen. He found it oddly comforting, sitting there with Molly and Severus, and his thoughts began to drift towards Nymphadora again. He came back to himself, however, when he saw Snape watching him out of the corner of his eye, with an odd expression on his face. Remus sat up straighter and again cleared his throat. 'Molly.' He rose from the table and came to her side. 'Please let me help you with all of that. It's too much work, to cook all of these breakfasts by yourself. Please, let me take over?' 'Nonsense, Remus! You sit and relax and…' she turned around tentatively to catch Snape's now once more impenetrable expression, his eyes trained on Molly and Remus without moving. 'On second thought, I might take you up on that offer, dear, just this once. I think I'd like to get some more sleep. It was a very late night.' 'Of course, Molly. It's my pleasure to help in any way I can.' Molly looked at him with curiosity. 'You know, Remus…It's really none of my business, but. You'd. You'd…Well, you'd make a woman very happy some day. Not every man is so agreeable and capable too when it comes to household matters.' Now it was Remus's turn to blush, and he and Molly exchanged looks. He understood her intent. There'd be a conversation about Tonks later, he knew. He wasn't looking forward to that. 'Really, Molly, it's nothing. Please get some rest.' 'Alright, dear. We'll have a nice chat later. It's been a while since we spoke. Severus, I will see you later too. I'm also making croissants! I'll arrange an additional basket of the chocolate ones.' Snape nodded graciously, and Molly exited.

Between flipping pancakes, Remus instinctively turned around to find Severus reading the newspaper, an intent look on his face. Remus turned back to his task, relieved to find himself doing something at least outwardly useful. If his hands weren't mechanically employed at that moment, he feared his anxiety would entirely overtake him. The woman whose heart he had broken was just upstairs. And he found her as beautiful as ever, even more so. He had no right to think that. He had no right to think of her. Perhaps, in fact, he should leave. But he did agree to make breakfast…

Remus's increasingly contradictory train of thought halted the work of his hands, flipping, checking the flame, shuffling the pan, and without realizing he'd come to be standing lost in thought and stock still for two whole minutes, quitting his breakfast making duties, standing there listless and blank. Suddenly, he smelled something like…burnt pancakes…he felt heat — a flame leapt up and jolted him back to reality.

'Damn it, man!' Snape spat at him. He flicked his wand at the burner and extinguished the now leaping flames which had narrowly missed Remus's tattered sleeve. With deadly deliberation, Snape lowered his newspaper and fixed Remus with another glare. 'Before you fail to accomplish yet another basic task with your limited skill set, sit down and let's just have out with it.' Snape whispered, but his tone was severe. And as he was speaking, he got up, took the spatula from Remus's hand and with the force of his mind, it seemed to the shocked werewolf, Snape indicated — demanded, really — that Remus take a seat. Remus sat down. Snape started again on the breakfast, which would have been a more bizarre sight except he made it look as if he were brewing potions.

'As I said, Lupin. I do not have all day. I advise that you speak. Otherwise you will never get a hold on your self — that is, what little there is to get hold of,' Snape scoffed. Remus adjusted his collar. 'Severus, I appreciate your concern, as puzzling as it is —' 'I merely wish to pass the day here in as quiet a fashion as possible, and you are setting the stage for some kind of maudlin episode —' 'I would hardly describe myself as maudlin, Sever—' 'Oh no? You mope around like a teenage girl, which I suppose makes sense since you are in love with a teenage girl.' 'Nymphadora is twenty-eight, Severus! She is hardly a teen—' Remus's jaw dropped. Slightly. Just a bit. Because he was not, in fact, as emotionally effusive as Snape accused. He had to all out pause, though. He'd fallen right into Snape's trap.

'Well, well. We are in agreement, then. You are in love, and with your diametric other.' 'Severus, I, I…Please. You've caught me on an odd day, and I don't wish to discuss this further.' Before Snape could issue another retort, however, they both heard a somehow pink sounding commotion tumbling down the stairs. 'Eh, fais attention, Tonks! Are you alright?' Fleur called from somewhere much higher up on the staircase. There was a loud thud towards it base. 'Yep yep yep, never been better. Landing more elegant than usual.' Remus blanched, but he continued to sit quietly, without expression. Snape looked faintly amused. He called out to the young women now almost out the door, just as Tonks began yelling into the kitchen 'Molly, Fleur and I —'

'Lower your voice,' Snape hissed at her, as Tonks swung into the kitchen, the entrance to which Snape was entirely blocking. 'Oh hey, Wotcher…uh, Sev…erus…' (Snape did not take fondly to Tonks's earlier attempts to give him a nickname). 'Merlin that smells amazing! Fleur and I are out to breakfast, wanna come?' Snape was shocked to the core, but didn't show it. Secretly, he liked this about Nymphadora, her totally open and welcome attitude to everyone and anyone, her obliviousness to the rules of social obligation and clique and propriety that seemed to govern everyone else. She didn't even think for a minute that anyone would find her keeping company with Severus Snape strange. Anyone, for Tonks, was a potential friend. Even Fleur Delacour, apparently. Yes, that was one of this girl's admirable qualities. It was also one of her stupidest. He could understand Lupin's attraction.

'No.' 'Oh. Ok! Well, maybe some other time! They've got these amazing vegan nutella muffins at this weird Muggle health diner Fleur likes, that's where we're going, maybe we could bring you back something cause, uh, you know I mean, I'm sure you work up an appetite having to put up with Voldemort and my aunt and all that stuff. That would zap me of all my energy too.' Apparently another one of this woman's talents was ignoring the obvious, which was Snape's increasing annoyance tipping into fury. So you had the werewolf fond of stating the obvious, and the metamorphmagus fond of ignoring it. A perfect match indeed.

'Nymphadora.' 'DON'T CALL ME THAT! IT'S TONKS!' By now Fleur was by Tonks's side, and she started speaking in a low whisper to Snape in French. Snape's expression didn't change, but it was clear that he comprehended when he replied, in English, 'Neither of them do.' 'Neither of who? Do what?' Tonks looked from Snape to Fleur and back again, enjoying the pleasure of random social interaction and of annoying Snape. But she stopped smiling and drooped slightly when something — or someone — over Snape's shoulder caught her eye. Tonks gently pushed Snape's arm out of her way so she could see better, and Snape let out an exasperated sigh, huffily returning to his post at the stove, his engagement decidedly over.

'Remus…?' 'Hi, Tonks,' Remus said quietly, his voice steady. Tonks advanced slightly into the room and as she did Remus stood up, raked his fingers through his hair, made as if to extend his hands to her, then shoved them into his pockets instead. 'No, no, Remus. Take them out where I can see them. I want to anticipate your next and your every move.' Fleur moved slightly in front of Tonks, almost between Tonks and Remus, and even Snape looked askance as Tonks took a bold step forward, grinning, towards her beloved…fine! Her 'love boy.' Remus blushed and gulped. Hard.


End file.
